


Eternal Sun

by pocketwatchangora



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gang Rape, Kidnapping, M/M, Prisoner Legolas, Rape, Starvation, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-04-02 14:19:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4063138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocketwatchangora/pseuds/pocketwatchangora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aragorn and Legolas are happily married until Legolas is kidnapped by orcs and taken to Mordor for Saruman's...use Warning! rape/non-con (not entire thing) AragornLegolas, rape!SarumanLegolas, rape!OrcsLegolas, grouprape!OCsLegolas</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Aragorn rode on his horse, weaving around bodies scattered across the hill. They’d won this one; the enemy had retreated to regroup having lost so much of their forces. He was evaluating their loses from the bodies he saw, the ratio of dead orcs to his troops lost was about 3:1, which was a victory - but bittersweet. It was a great shame to lose so many good men, but it would help their people.  
  
After doing this, he returned to camp hoping for a hot drink and to snuggle up with Legolas. As he neared their camp, one of his first guards ran up to him, his eyes wild with worry.  
  
“Your Majesty…!” he panted “It’s Prince Legolas, sir…he has been taken!” Aragorn’s heart stopped. He jumped off his horse, mind blind with anger and worried sickness  
  
“How did this happen?!” he demanded, the other man looked down  
  
“He was seeing to some of the injured men and some orcs grabbed him and took him away. Several men chased after them but they could not catch up..”  
  
“Find him! Do whatever we can, we must get him back now!” he ordered. The man nodded, rushing off again to rally their remaining troops for another mission.  
  
After this news, Aragorn got straight back on his horse, going off in a desperate attempt to find his love.  
  
“Aragorn!” Faramir yelled from the camp, having watching his friend closely as he received word. He kicked his horse and racing to his friend. He was looking around him wildly, searching for the lost elf, but ‘twas all in vain. Legolas had long since been taken to Sauron and he knew it “Aragorn, my friend, listen to me, I beg of you! You cannot help Legolas like this, you must eat and sleep or else you will be useless to him!” Faramir cried but still Aragorn ignored him, and kept going  
  
“I have to save him…I must..” he said over and over again, his voice hoarse from days of shouting for his love with never a reply.  
  
“You will, my friend, I swear to you I will help you with all my power, but you must care for yourself also. You cannot live on sheer will, no matter how stubborn you are. Come, I promise you at first light we will head for Mordor but not until you have slept until morning and eaten.” He said firmly, taking his horses reigns as well as Aragorn’s and urging both horses back to camp, Aragorn falling silent and defeated.  
  
He forced Aragorn to sit and eat a full meal with him, then confined him in the royal tent via armed guards so he may sleep. Aragorn lay a while, willing himself to stay awake but soon enough, his eyelids closed themselves over his weeping eyes and he drifted into a deep sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

He sat up slowly, his long flaxen hair falling down his back as he moved. His thin body was unclothed, whatever garments he’d previously worn had been ripped to shreds before he’d even been taken to his new home. He moved himself to lean against the cold damp wall and lifted his bound arms to review the damage. A few bruises, a burn or two, nothing he wouldn’t heal during the night. All he could hear was the terrible screech of orcs, the sound never failed to frighten him. 

He let out a sigh, looking out of the barred window of his cell into the black sky. Despite the darkness of the heavens, the Eye of Sauron was ever burning, like an eternal sun over Mordor, eliminating its evils. He could feel himself slowly dying from such unnatural, dark surroundings. He longed for the feel of grass on his skin, fresh air on his face and the energy of the trees to comfort him. 

Legolas looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps and tried his best to cover himself, though he knew it was pointless. 

“Elf!” came an ungodly voice which made him flinch. The door was opened, revealing three of the ugliest creatures of Middle Earth “You’re wanted by Lord Saruman.” One said as the other two entered the cell to grab the elf. 

“Do not touch me, I can walk.” he snarled, smacking their huge misshapen hands away. He stood up and, though his hips hurt him terribly, he felt strong as he followed them out.   
He wished he had something to wear, something to cover himself up with. He hated how he was looked upon by the orcs, he felt surrounded and vulnerable in such a bared state. 

He was taken through the orc camp, feeling every beady eye upon him. Though he felt terribly exposed, he was too proud to show his insecurity, even to those who currently had power over him. He walked with a straight back and his head held high, eyes looking straight ahead.

Saruman’s chamber was at the top of a tall tower, stone unlike all the makeshift wooden huts in which the orcs worked and dwelled. Legolas was taken up a long spiral staircase, the stone cold and hard on his bare feet. The stairwell ended at a large wooden door. The lead orc of the three stepped forward and knocked, entering at the admittance call. Legolas was pushed inside and nearly fell but kept his balance, looking up through his hair at the cause of all he was experiencing. Lord Saruman was sat on a throne-like seat, his legs crossed within his white robes and his fingertips pressed together, peering down at the elf. The corrupt wizard’s thin lips curled into a smirk 

“Leave us.” He addressed the three orcs, not breaking eye contact with angry blue orbs. The three creatures left, closing the door behind them. Once their departing footsteps on the stairs died away, he spoke again “Tell me, Legolas, son of Thranduil, how does it feel to be beneath orcs of all creatures?” the elf’s eyes remained angry

“I will never be beneath orcs, and I am not beneath you.” 

“Ah, how wrong you are. You are our prisoner, Legolas, if you hadn’t already noticed. Your pride is merely stubbornness - like a horse in need of breaking in. You are below us all…and by the looks of your body, many an orc has been ‘on top’ of you, ai?” he chuckled at his own sick pun, still staring into the piercing eyes. “Is being violated by orcs terrible? I expect, as an elf, you’d rather die than be preyed upon in such a way, especially by such foul beasts.” He smirked and stood up, walking slowly over to the bound elf. 

Legolas stepped away from the taller man but a long-nailed talon-like hand grabbed him, pulling him closer. The robed arm snaked around his tiny waist, holding him still as he studied his face “Such a pretty little thing.” He commented, using his free hand to lift the pale chin. Legolas refused his touch, jerking his head away and to the side.   
Saruman chuckled and the next thing he knew, Legolas was falling to the floor. He landed on the hard stone, his cheek stinging with the impact of the wizard’s hand. Slightly dazed, the elf looked up to see the white haired man crouching beside him, a grin on his face “Now, now, Prince Legolas,” he said this in a highly derisive tone “seems I’ll have to teach you some manners. That is no way to behave, especially towards your Master.” 

“You are not my Master.” He growled, earning a kick to the ribs. He controlled the rising cough but couldn’t hold in the painful grunts. Saruman grinned and entangled his bony fingers in the elf’s long fair hair, pulling his head back to look into his eyes

“Don’t be so sure, young elf.” He said softly. “Your friend Gandalf won’t be helping you now. Nor that lover of yours…Aragorn, was it?” Legolas looked up at him, anger swelling in his gut

“What have you done to him?” 

“Nothing, my dear Legolas - not yet anyway. Besides, you’re the one I’ll be doing things to.” He said, grinning. Legolas felt the wizard’s hard, cold hand touching his body as he lay helpless and in pain on the floor. “How have my soldiers treated you, hm? I trust you are fairly ruined inside?” he asked, Legolas felt a fingernail trace his entrance before one long finger was pushed inside him. The elf tensed, whimpering quietly in pain “Incredible, still so tight and soft… Elf healing powers, I suppose…” he said, more to himself than to Legolas. He smirked down at the young elf, seeing his eyes remained defiant

“Do not touch me…” he growled, trying to get up. Saruman chuckled, pushing another two fingers inside him, getting a small gasp and whimper in reply, the blue eyes squeezed shut. 

“Does that hurt you, Legolas?” he asked, mockingly “You must be somewhat torn down here, not yet healed… This will be fun..” he said, Legolas refused to look at the sick grin he knew the wizard was wearing, trying to think about something to distract himself but every time he conjured Aragorn’s smiling face or Gondor palace’s private bath chamber or Mirkwood forest in his head, his attention was ripped back by pain or Saruman’s evil-dripping voice. “You cannot escape me, little elf.” He breathed into one pointed ear before licking his wet tongue along it, making Legolas cringe, hunching shoulders in an effort to shield himself. The wizard above him chuckled, moving his fingers around inside him. Legolas gave a small involuntary squeak at this, which caused his violator much mirth as he continued to softly torture the proud elf. 

Soon the dark wizard wanted more and he removed his fingers from the elf’s suitably prepared hole before pulling his thin hips up so he was supported by his knees. Legolas braced himself as he heard the rustle of robes being swept aside. 

The sharp nails dug into the skin on his waist and he felt slightly coarse hair on his back as the wizard leaned forward, pushing himself in. He felt different to the orcs - all their members were as misshapen and grotesque as their faces but the wizard’s felt almost good in its familiar shape. 

“Does it remind you of your Aragorn, little elf?” Saruman asked in a low tone, moving his hips unpleasantly slowly against the thin elf’s as if to make the experience as slow and as painful and as horrible as possible “Oh, if only I could impregnate you… Or perhaps an orc…wouldn’t that be terrible for you?” he chuckled, Legolas felt his bony hand on his flat, toned stomach “Yes, I can imagine this part of you swollen with an ugly orc’s child, your body straining with its body inside you.. Perhaps if I fill you with my seed, you will bare my child..” 

“I cannot bear children…I am male..!” Legolas growled, having had enough of this ridiculous thought

“Shame…but I will still try to impregnate you. As will the orcs.” He said, thrusting his hips hard against the elf’s, making him moan unwittingly. "What beautiful children they would be with you as their mother.” Saruman said close to one pointed ear and Legolas felt sickened by the words and the hot breath and how desperately helpless he was. If Aragorn would not be there to rescue him from this misery, he hoped for death. It was all so futile that the proud prince of the Woodland Realm closed his tired eyes and allowed his body to be used however Saruman saw fit.


	3. Chapter 3

“Look, Legolas, I have ejaculated inside you so much, it looks like you’re pregnant.” He said, chuckling at the elf’s now slightly rounded stomach “I wonder if I push on it, you will give birth..” he put his hand on the small elf’s inflated belly and pressed down hard. Legolas made a small noise of discomfort and winced as he felt the large amounts of cum flow from his hole onto the stone floor he was lying on. Saruman chuckled, pressing harder. Legolas, this time in true pain, raised his weak hands in an effort to stop him. “Just a little more, Legolas, we need to get all our children out.” He said, pushing as hard as he could on the elf’s stomach

“Stop, please…it hurts, th-there is no more to come out..” he begged weakly, degraded and humiliated more than he could bear. 

“We must be sure, Legolas.” He said, standing up and putting his foot on his stomach instead. Legolas’ tired eyes widened at this

“Master no..! Please, it will-”

“Silence.” Saruman hissed before stamping on the poor elf’s stomach. Legolas cried out in pain, the semen inside him gushing out, mixed with blood. “Oh dear, seems I’ve torn you again, Legolas. Don’t worry, it will heal. Guards!” the door opened and four orcs appeared “Clean our little elf up and make him look presentable. We are having guests tonight.” They nodded and advanced on Legolas. 

They pulled him up by the hair and one arm, holding him upright as he was too weak to stand alone. One then tipped a bucket of water over the elf’s head; it was freezing cold and made him gasp and shiver, his long blonde hair covering his face in a wet sheet. They then grabbed his arms and began scrubbing his body hard with rough cloths, reddening the skin, wrenching his limps violently like a rag doll. 

“What a lovely colour you’ve become, my dear.” Saruman said with a chuckle, going to sit back down. Legolas no longer cared. He was painfully numb and exhausted, barely able to keep his tired eyes open. He distracted himself by wandering who these guests were. He hoped to God it was someone who wouldn’t feel the urge to fuck him. 

He snapped back to reality when his hair started being tugged and combed roughly. He looked up to see Saruman smirking at him, watching with interest. Legolas couldn’t stop himself shivering both from cold and from disgust. 

“Make sure you get his insides.” Saruman ordered loudly, watching the elf’s eyes widen. One orc smirked repulsively and picked Legolas up by his knees, spreading his legs as the elf’s back rested against its chest. Legolas felt hot, wet breath on his neck and face, his tired eyes closing as two thick fingers entered him. He didn’t feel a thing after that, finally passing out from exhaustion. 

*

Aragorn shivered atop his horse. The wind was harsh today, icy, and chilled him to the bone, atypical of Rohan this time of year. They had crossed the Adnuin that morning, successfully avoiding Sarn Gebir, and now the mountains were causing them problems with their horses.

He looked over at Faramir, who looked as miserable as he, himself, felt. They had been riding for two days, and still had another three before them. 

They were journey to Lothlórien, to see Lady Galadriel: their final resort. 

They had sent an army of scouts to all the places they could think of the orcs could have taken Legolas. It was known that the regions they used to lurk had been abandoned since the War of the Ring, those smart enough to escape the cull had retreated further north, towards the Lost Realm. Their strong holds in Isengard had been destroyed after they lost in battle and their tunnels were filled in, and no new ones had been reported at all. 

“I hope she can help us…I fear each passing day takes me further away from finding Legolas alive.” Aragorn had confided in Faramir as they left to visit the Lady of Light. Faramir had nodded, though he already feared the worst for their Prince Regent and dear friend. Orcs were not gentle creatures, they would have either killed Legolas before sun rose on the night they took him; or, if he was, in face, still alive, Aragorn may not want to find what they were doing to him... 

*

Waking up, Legolas realised he was on a soft surface. He opened his eyes, expecting to see the forest-green ceiling of their bed chamber in Gondor Palace, or Aragorn’s bearded face asleep on the next pillow. No…no, no, no, no, NO! 

All he saw was stone.

“Ah, Legolas, you’re awake!” he looked up at the voice and his eyes widened, seeing Saruman grinning at him. Legolas sat up and away from him, getting himself on the edge of the bed. He heard a large number of voices and he looked past Saruman. There, on a lower level to himself, the bed and Saruman, was an audience of a hundred Men and wizards, all grinning at him. 

Saruman was grinning at him. “I’ve decided to put on a little show for some of my friends, I’ve told them how wonderful you are and they wanted to see for themselves. First, I will show them all your best bits myself, and then I will allow them to sample you themselves.” He said, the sick grin still present on his long wrinkled face. Legolas stared up at him then out at all the faces, their hungry eyes on his body.

“Hurry up, Saruman, I can’t wait to taste that beautiful skin..!” someone said. Saruman chuckled and nodded to his servants: two orcs. The both grabbed Legolas and pulled him off the bed so he was standing between them at the front of the stage. One held him by his bound-together wrists, suspending him five inches off the ground. The other stood on his other side, waiting for when he was required. Saruman stood just to the side of the one holding Legolas, addressing the men in the crowd. 

“I present to you, gentlemen, Prince Legolas of the Woodland Realm, son of the Elf-king Thranduil of Mirkwood. He is married to Aragorn, son of Arathorn, King Elessar Telcontar. They lived in Gondor Palace together, until Prince Legolas was taken by a group of Orcs are bought to me at Mordor. As you can see, gentlemen, he is a truly fine specimen. Myself and my orcs can confirm he is…wonderful.” He said with a grin, the crowd echoing in laughter. 

Legolas had never felt so small. His head hung limply, his body. His shoulder and wrists ached from being held in this way, but nothing hurt more than his heart. He wished for the world to end just save him this latest humiliation. 

“As an elf, he has a number of unique advantages. For example, he has incridble healing powers, so punishments will only be visible for a day or so. Elves digestion systems are second to none, feeding is not required and what little they do eat is absorbed so clean-up is unnecessary.” Another wave of chuckles. “I like to keep him very slim, his skin is soft and his hair is silken.” Saruman nodded to orcs beside Legolas and each took hold of one his legs, bending them at the knee as they rose them, exposing his most intimate place. “He remains tight, despite countless violations, and he makes some truly exquisite noises…but I will let you experience those for yourselves. Now, gentlemen, those who have paid, please make your ways up to the stage. The bar is now open so please help yourselves to refreshments.”

The room became a blur of faces after that. Legolas was placed back on the bed and, one by one, a stranger took him, then more than one, until a hoard surrounded him, muttering harsh words and violating him in every way they could. 

“I’ve never had an elf before..”

“They’re impossible to get, catching one is like trying to catch a dragon.”

“Except a dragon has claws and breathes fire. This one is as helpless as a kitten without that bow and arrow.” Then another manhood entered his mouth, holding his head to the side while two entered him below, the men lying beneath him grunting loudly in his ear. His wrists were held tightly as his hands were moved to pleasure others. 

“Prince Legolas of the Woodland Realm, well, this will be a story to tell. I wonder if your father will catch wind of it, hm? Will you be a disgrace then?” Legolas’ eyes widened.

“More of one anyway. Marrying a human, and a man at that? No wonder you don’t live in Mirkwood anymore, your father must not be able to stand the sight of you.” The laughter increased, the uncountable mouths defiling his skin disappearing momentarily to join in the mirth. 

“Will King Aragorn think you dirty after you have been used to much?” 

“I think if I found out my wife were raped by countless men and orcs, I’d have her killed!” one laughed “Filthy bitch…” he whispered closer to Legolas’ ear, making him shiver and tears rolled down his cheeks. 

*

The orcs left him alone that evening, feeling he was too exhausted to be any fun. 

He lay where they’d dropped him, on the floor of his cell in a semi-foetal position, waiting for sublime sleep that didn’t come. His body was dead, his mind rotten. He did not want to be alive anymore.


	4. Chapter 4

Legolas woke up slowly, his entire body aching – something he’d never experienced before. Even after a battle, his body covered in the slices of axes and punctures of arrows, muscles ripped from exertion, he’d always healed overnight and been fine the next day. 

Now however, he could feel the heavy shadow of pain all over him, the pain in his hips from countless, severe intrusions, his jaw ached from being constantly open and full, even his stomach hurt...perhaps this is what starving felt like, he’d never before felt the sensation of hunger. 

Food was necessary for an elf’s body, though it did not require much. One meal would suffice for a week since elven metabolisms were slow, but he had not had a morsel to eat for…a month? A year? He no longer knew. The eternal sun outside made his world constant, dreadful day. 

He thought perhaps he would be permitted a day off today, after all he went through yesterday, Saruman may take pity on him…or just not be interested in using someone so very used. He hoped.

He was lying on his stone bed, pretending it was a mattress and pillow of goose down and Aragorn was beside him, when the door opened. He didn’t open his eyes, clinging to some stupid thought in his starved delusion that if he couldn’t see them, they couldn’t see him, they couldn’t touch him. 

“Up, Elf.” A snarling, screeching voice cried, making him flinch, his eyes opening on instinct. The orc with the face of a grotesque bird was there, along with one that vaguely resembled a warthog. When Legolas did not rise, the hog faced one grabbed his arm hard enough to bruise and pulled him to his feet. 

His legs were too weak to support him and he fell, caught only after hitting his head on the stone of his cot. His vision swam at the impact and he felt himself pulled over a large, firm shoulder and carried out. 

He found himself on the floor of Saruman’s chamber once again, the hot, thick trickle of blood making its way down to his way, the corner of his bed having made short work of the skin just below his hair line. 

“Why is he bleeding?” Saruman asked in a bored voice, looking at the pig orc. 

“He must have fallen.” he replied, his voice barely even resembling a voice at all, twisted and thick with Black Speech. Saruman sighed and waved them out, standing up. 

“Are you dizzy, Legolas?” he asked, tilting his head back to inspect the wound. Legolas closed his eyes as the world swung like a pendulum in front of him and he nodded, gritting his teeth. If he had anything of interest in his stomach, he would have emptied it out onto Saruman’s satin slippers there and then. “Ah, not a problem…it may even help.” He said. Legolas, even in his concussed state, picked up on that. What fresh hell was he planning for him today?

“Please, M-Master…I cannot take any more…”

“Silence.” He barked and Legolas obeyed, tears welling in his eyes. 

“I am curious about you, Legolas, about your body… I’ve never been well acquainted with Elves, besides those pompous fouls on the White Council. Wood Elves…the fascinate me. Your bodies, your skill, your strength…I wish to know more about it. I wish to challenge you.” Legolas did not dare open his eyes, lest the world crumble away from him entirely, so he lowered his head. 

“What do you wish me to do, Master?” he asked, his words feeling like acid on his tongue. Saruman chuckled. 

“I want to test your Elven healing powers, Legolas. See how much you can withstand, since there’s no worry of you dying..” Legolas looked at his master with wide eyes, his stomach rolling as the wizard’s face mutated to his eyes, like he was looking at him through disturbed water. “Does that frighten you?” the blue eyes looked down again, he heard chuckling before talon-like hands wretched his chin back up. “Come now, little elf, answer your Master’s question.” He said, holding his chin still. 

Legolas glared at him defiantly so Saruman grinned and nodded. Legolas suddenly felt a burning hot pain across his back. He screamed. 

*

“Lady Galadriel, I beg you…find Legolas. You are my last hope, please…” Aragorn begged, the knees of his breeches dirtied from kneeling before her. She peered down at him with her piercing stare, his blood chilled at the feeling. 

“Very well…I will help you. But I cannot promise you pleasant results.” She warned and he nodded, thanking her profusely. She sighed and turn away from them, gliding towards the large looking glass which seemed to grow from the very wall. 

She stared into the pane, her fingers very slowly stirring the water in the basin beside her. Aragorn and Faramir stood as still as they could, not wishing to disturb her as she searched for Legolas. 

They watched, anxious and excited, as her eyes began to glow an icy blue, ethereal light beaming from her skin like sun rays. She muttered in a language neither of them knew, it certainly was no form of Elvish they were familiar with, nor did it sound like Elvish: it was harsher, angrier, demanding. 

Suddenly, the Lady Galadriel cried out, her body crumpling to the floor. Aragorn leapt to help her but Faramir held him back, shaking his head, his eyes fixed on the she-elf. She was panting harshly, her voice escaping her in pained, shivering gasps that had no amiable place on anyone’s lips. 

“Aragorn…” she whispered in her native tongue. Aragorn snatched his arm from his companion’s grasp and approached her, taking her outstretching and shaking hand. Her other hand was clenched in a fist so hard he could see blood running down her wrist. 

“My Lady-”

“He is near…so very near…so much pain…!” her voice was barely more than a whisper now, tears rolling down her luminous cheeks. 

“Where, my Lady? Please, tell me where he is!”

“The sun…it burns always… Such pain and fear…the stench…orcs…!” Aragorn frowned at the fragments of information. “The Eye…” she whispered finally before collapsing against him, her face serene again. Celeborn ran in at this point, rushing to his wife’s side. 

“I…I don’t know what happened..” Aragorn said. 

“It is alright, Your Highness, she just needs to rest… Was it of help to you?” he asked, his voice edged slightly with resentment as he lifted his wife up in his arms as if she were nothing but a child. 

“Yes…I think so. We must be leaving, please give her m most sincerest of apologies and thank her for assistance.” He said with a bow before leaving. 

“Well? Do you know where he is?” Faramir asked his king, having to run slightly to catch up to Aragorn’s long purposeful stride. His eyes were bright with life and excitement. 

“Sauron…” he hissed. “We must send word to the troops. We will war if we must.”

*

Legolas could not scream anymore. He was more exhausted than he imagined anyone had even been, yet Saruman and his team of torturers showed no signs of lag. 

Blood dripped or clung, dried, to every part of his shivering body, the smell making him nauseous. Electric sparks carried their spasms through his veins, his limps ached from constant suspension and manipulation. The burns on his skin were healing buts slowly and so very painfully he felt faint if he thought about it too much. 

“Interesting…” Saruman’s voice cut through his pounding head like an axe. He would have preferred an axe. “I can see you are healing but it is so slow…could it be that exhaustion slows down your ability to regenerate?” he asked, obviously expecting an answer as he stood in front of the elf, one long pointed nail pressed into the underside of his chin so he was looking up at him. “Poor dear…can you even hear me?” he asked, not even a trace of sympathy in his baritone mocking. 

Legolas tried to reply but he couldn’t even move his face, just stare up at him, helpless.


	5. Chapter 5

Legolas was carried back to his cell over the shoulder of an orc, bleeding and too exhausted to be in pain. The orc had permission to use him further but Legolas did not notice if he did. 

He passed out unconscious the instant his body was laid onto his stone bed, his mind and body shutting down for some badly needed rest. 

He slept for the longest time and when he woke up, his whole body hurt - something he’d never experienced before. He looked down at himself and found his injuries from the previous night still present, though less pronounced, as if they were healing but much slower than they should. 

This was something completely foreign to Legolas; he’d always healed over night, no matter how badly he was hurt… Perhaps all this was finally getting to him. Perhaps he really would die here...

*

Legolas was lying on his stone bed, exhausted from yet another summons to Saruman’s chamber, when there was a ruckus somewhere outside his cell, down the hall a ways. 

He sat up with as much speed as his body permitted, honing his ears to listen intently, staying perfectly still. He could just make out deep voices and the squealing of orcs. Legolas was about to stand up, if his body allowed him to, when there was large crash, making him jump. 

This might be my chance... He pulled himself up and, supporting himself against the wall, walked slowly over to the door. The cell door opened inwards so he stood by the hinged side, hoping to slip out when the orcs came in or else stay hidden. He leaned against the cold bricks, shivering slightly. 

Waiting in the shadows, he finally heard approaching footsteps - two, maybe three, pairs of feet coming towards him. 

More orcs looking for a pleasurable pass time in the elf. 

He heard a key in the lock and readied himself to run as soon as the disgusting beings entered the room. The door opened; illuminating the small, dark cell he’d lived in for knew not how long. Legolas held his breath, waiting for the perfect moment. 

Two large shadows appeared but there was something…different about them. They weren’t the mutated bulks of orcs; he could make out the curls of hair and slim but very manly physiques. His eyes widened at the voice he heard next.

“Legolas? Are you in here?” Truly the most wonderful voice he had ever heard.

“A…Aragorn…?!” he half breathed, half cried. The door closed, revealing Aragorn’s grinning face. Strong, gentle arms immediately encircled him and he was pulled into the broad, firm chest. It felt like an eternity since he’d been in those arms.

“Legolas..! Oh, my sweet Legolas, thank the stars!” he cried breathlessly, large arms wrapping around his impossibly narrow waist, picking him up and hugging him tightly.   
Legolas hugged him back weakly, his forearms along his biceps and clutching the hood of his cloak, shocked at what had just happened. Aragorn laughed in happy relief and they parted so he could look at him, putting him down but holding his shoulders. 

He looked sadly at the terribly skinny elf – his powers of healing could do nothing for lack of food, in this instance it merely prolonged the pain. “Let’s go, meleth. Can you walk?” he asked, removing his own long coat and putting it around his poor bare frame.

“I-I am not sure..” he said weakly. Aragorn smiled at him and gently scooped him up, almost cradling him. Legolas sighed and leaned into him, revelling in the brief happiness before he woke up in the empty cell - something he was sure would happen, it always had before… 

The others accompanying Aragorn were Faramir and, to Legolas’ delight, Gimli - who both smiled hugely, relief in their eyes, at the elf as Aragorn carried him past. 

The King of Gondor carried the Prince of the Woodland Realm out of the prison and into the night air, which - though by no means fresh due to the mixture of orc excrement and sulphurous gas - gave the Forest Elf a great calming sensation. On ground level, they found hundreds of fallen orcs as Aragorn’s troops fought in the name of their king and prince. 

Aragorn gave the word to fall back and took Legolas to an awaiting carriage, carrying him safely inside, the other two closely joining them. Once they were all in, the driver set off for Gondor, escorted by Gondor’s army. 

Noticing Legolas was shivering; Aragorn put a blanket around the elf to keep him warm and hugged him to his chest, feeling the blonde huddling against him defensively

“You’re safe now, Legolas, you do not need to be scared anymore..” he said quietly, stroking his hair. 

“Th-thank you..” he whispered, holding the man’s shirt in weak hands. 

Aragorn rubbed his back, whispering words of comfort until Legolas fell asleep. The man kept his husband’s small body close in his lap, the fair head on the strong shoulder

“He must be so tired..” Faramir commented, sadness in his eyes as he regarded them. Aragorn nodded, concern for the elf shining in everyone’s eyes.

“We’ll take him back to the palace - but we may have to take him to Mirkwood if his health has suffered too much.” He said, Faramir nodded. “He’s so thin..” he said, feeling the protruding ribs through both his coat and the blanket

“He’ll just need plenty of food, I doubt those things gave him much to eat..” Gimli said angrily. Aragorn sighed and slowly leaned back, conscious of not jostling Legolas, and let his mind go blank with relief of finally having Legolas back. 

“At least he won’t have bruises or injuries, not for long anyway…” Faramir said quietly

“Not physical ones.” Aragorn muttered, gently kissing the pale forehead and hugging him close.


	6. Chapter 6

The journey was not too long and they arrived at Gondor palace just after dawn. Aragorn took Legolas straight up to the royal bed chamber, requesting a doctor and some food - Faramir and Gimli close behind. 

Aragorn laid the sleeping Elf down in the large bed they’d shared since their marriage, putting him into a comfortable position and covering him with the thick comforter.   
The doctor arrived and looked over him, concluding there were few injuries due to his Elven healing, but the psychological damage of such an ordeal could be severe, especially to a creature of such pride as an elf. 

Aragorn sighed and thanked him, paying him for his troubles before dismissing him. He sat beside Legolas, gently caressing his beautiful face as he slept. 

“This is my fault, if I’d have just been there…” he muttered, shaking his head

“Aragorn, please, do not blame yourself. No-one is to blame but those miserable, disgusting creatures..” Faramir said, patting his friend on the back. 

Aragorn smiled slightly at his friend then back to Legolas, who’d stirred. The electric blue eyes opened slowly and blinked with a small frown, as if trying to remember where he was.

“Legolas…” Aragorn said quietly. The blue eyes looked at him and the pale lips became a smile.

“Aragorn…so it was not a dream.” He said, reaching his hand to him, as if to confirm his presence, or even existence, through touch. Aragorn grinned and took it, kissing his palm and fingers, holding his hand to his cheek as the gentle fingers caressed his hair and tucked it behind his ear.

“No, indeed, meleth.” Aragorn said, stroking his pale face “I am very glad it was not, Legolas, I am so happy to have you back.” 

“Me too, my love, I missed you so..” Aragorn leaned down and they kissed very gently, the Man conscious Legolas may be sensitive to personal contact. Legolas smiled at him, which Aragorn returned warmly

“Are you hungry, love?” he asked, the elf nodded.

“Very.” He said this just as the servants returned with trays of food for the safely returned Prince, all smiling to see him home.   
Aragorn helped the poor elf sit up to eat, holding his bony body carefully - constantly worried he’d snap at any given time he now had so little fat or flesh. He was still somewhat toned but the protruding bones were far too obvious to notice it now. 

Once secure and comfortable, Aragorn gave his husband his robe to cover himself with before the four began eating, though the other three allowed Legolas the most. He ate ravenously, which pleased and saddened his husband; pleased that he was eating and so would get healthier, but saddened to see his beauty so desperate for food and nourishment - something he’d been literally starved of for months. 

They were soon finished and the trays taken away, by which time Legolas was almost asleep once more. Faramir and Gimli decided to take their leave at this point, bidding the couple good night. 

This time Aragorn got into bed with Legolas, after stripping himself of everything but undergarments and shirt. He lay down with Legolas in their bed like they always used to, holding the thin, uncharacteristically cold body close to himself, hoping to warm and comfort his darling elf. 

Legolas made a small purr-like sound and weakly snuggled into him, long elegant fingers lightly touching Aragorn’s chest, fingers tickled by the curls of chest hair peeking out from under his clothing. The Man grinned, finally feeling the relief he’d craved for so long. 

*

The next morning, Aragorn awoke to a slight pain just to the right of his heart. 

He opened his eyes, looking down to see Legolas crying against him, his nails digging into Aragorn’s chest as terrible dreams filled his mind

“No, please..! No more, it hurts!” he begged, the other hand fighting off his imaginary attacker. Aragorn had to catch and hold his wrist to prevent himself and Legolas injury.

“Legolas, wake up! Nothing is hurting you, meleth, please wake up!” he cried, sitting up and shaking the thin shoulders. The elf gasped and his eyes snapped open, looking around him in panic. The big blue eyes slid up to see Aragorn’s worried bearded features and he automatically crumpled

“Oh, Aragorn…” he sighed, tears of relief and shame rolling down his cheeks. Aragorn scooped him up in his arms and held him close, stroking his hair. Legolas buried his face in his husband’s chest, his head fitting perfectly beneath the Man’s chin as he cried, arms wrapped around each other tightly, neither of them ever wanting to let go. 

“I know, my love, do not fear… I promise I will protect you with all my might from now on. You will never feel pain again, Legolas, I swear to you.” He vowed quietly, rubbing his husband’s bony back. Legolas sniffed, hugging his love round the neck, his still so gentle fingers in the thick black curls that always made him feel good and safe. 

“Sorry…I must be such a pain..” he mumbled, snuggling into him as he calmed down. Aragorn gently took the thin arms, moving them so he kissed his hands, looking into the blue eyes.

“Not at all, take all the time you need, my love.” Aragorn said and kissed his forehead for a long, meaningful time. 

“…I do not feel…you deserve being tied to me..” the elf said quietly, tears shining on his cheeks. Aragorn frowned and looked at him 

“Why, meleth?” 

“I…am afraid of sex..” he said slowly, his eyes going from the mattress up to Aragorn’s, shining with tears “I can no longer be yours …” he whispered. Aragorn’s eyes widened and he hugged him tightly.

“Nonsense! You could never ever not be mine whilst I am living, I absolutely forbid it!” he cried. “You do not have any duty towards me, you are my husband and nothing will ever change that. I am not an animal, nor do I need sexual pleasure to live! No, we will simply live our lives without until - if at all - you are ready to try again. It is of no matter, my love, I promise you.” He said softly, holding Legolas’ head so he looked into his eyes. 

“But…I could never take that away from you..! You cannot live the rest of your life without sex, you will go mad!” Legolas said but Aragorn would not let up, stroking his beautiful husband’s cheeks, wiping them of tears.

“Then I will go mad. I will never hurt you, meleth.” He said “That is absolutely final.” Legolas sighed, his body limp in defeat. Aragorn smiled slightly, glad he was not arguing further, and kissed him gently “Are you hungry, Legolas?” he asked. Legolas glanced at him and nodded “I’ll call us up some breakfast. Would you like a bath before, during or after eating?” he asked. Legolas smiled and thought for a moment. 

“Before, I desperately need to wash.” He said and Aragorn nodded, picking him up with permission and taking him to their bath chamber. He ran the bath and made tea whilst they waited, sipping happily. Soon the bath was full and at the perfect temperature and Aragorn helped Legolas in. He held his hand as he stepped slowly into the porcelain tub, poised in case he fell but Legolas remained strong and steady. He sat down, sighing slightly as he was engulfed by the wonderful liquid, eyes sliding shut. 

“Is that good, meleth?” Aragorn asked, smiling as the elf’s eyes drifting shut. Legolas nodded with a small content smile.

“’Tis lovely..” he whispered, then looked at Aragorn, taking his hand in his warm wet one. “I love you, Aragorn.” Aragorn grinned and kissed his fingers

“And I you, my dearest. Would you like me to wash your hair?” he asked. Legolas grinned and nodded, sitting up slightly. Aragorn grinned and got the necessary soaps and ointments, as well as a beautiful comb he’d got Legolas for his last birthday - his true age something that would never be told so they’d decided he was 23. He sat by Legolas’ head and took the long golden locks in his caring hands, rubbing them with the sweet smelling treatments that Legolas loved. 

His hair was in relatively good keep, considering all that had happened. There were a few difficult knots and some dried blood and dirt but other than that it was its usual beauty. He had been allowed to wash, at least, Aragorn thought to himself.

“That feels so nice..” Legolas said, his eyes closing again as he enjoyed his husband’s gentle hands sweeping through his hair. A feeling he hadn’t realised he’d miss until he no longer experienced it. 

“I am glad, my love. Are you comfortable?”

“Yes, very. Nothing hurts if that is what you mean, meleth.” Aragorn smiled and nodded

“Quel.” (E/T: Good) he said, combing the long blonde hair he’d longed to feel for months. “I will take you out to sit in the garden if you wish, Legolas? I know you’ve missed the trees.” The elf grinned 

“Oh, Aragorn, that would be wonderful!” Aragorn smiled, nodding

“It shall be done then, my love. We shall sit in the orchard on some rugs and blankets. Perhaps a picnic?” Legolas smiled and turned round to kiss him. 

“I would love that so!” he cried. Aragorn grinned and hugged his skinny, wet body - loving the feeling of the warm water seeping into his own shirt. 

Legolas soon finished his bath and Aragorn helped him get dried and dressed into a comfortable gray tunic, light breeches, a cloak with a fur-lined hood and some woolen slippers as well as a fleece so he was warm in the late autumn breeze. The clothes were slightly too big where they used to be tailored precisely to his body. 

Aragorn changed his own shirt and put on his cloak. He then ordered the cooks to make them a picnic and it be brought to them in the orchard. Aragorn himself took bundles of rugs and blankets and he and Legolas went out into the palace’s orchard, which was part of the private grounds at the back of Gondor palace, facing north east so it got plenty of sun. 

Legolas watched Aragorn lay out their little nest, not being permitted to lift a finger by his husband. Once it was ready, Aragorn pulled Legolas down to sit beside him. Draping a blanket around him and hugging him close, both smiled. Legolas laughed softly, closing his eyes to feel the wind on his face and in his hair. He breathed the fresh air in deeply, feeling himself recuperating and regenerate from the amount of time he’d spent away from nature. 

“If it was not so cold, I would be lying in the grass..” he said, smiling. Aragorn chuckled, looking at his contentment fondly

“Perhaps we should go to Mirkwood - you would feel much better there, would you not?”

“I would much rather be home here, it feels so safe. I couldn’t bear to leave now..” Aragorn grinned and hugged him tight. Legolas chuckled then sighed thoughtfully. “I would like to tell my father and friends I am alright, though..” 

“I’m sure we can send a messenger, or possibly your father could come here?”

“Oh, no! He hates travelling, especially in the winter. No, I think a messenger will be fine.. Could we get some plants in our room, do you think?” 

“Of course, I’ll send for some immediately.” Legolas smiled and leaned into him comfortably. 

“Thank you..” Aragorn smiled and tightened his hold on his husband’s tiny waist. 

“Legolas…I know you don’t want to…but I think it would do you good to talk about what happened there… I want to be here for you all the time but I don’t know if I can do that if I don’t what is hurting you..” Legolas sighed and nodded

“Yes… I will, meleth, I will but…not yet..” Aragorn smiled and hugged him tightly, kissing his hair. 

“Take all the time you need, Legolas, I won’t leave your side.” Legolas looked at him with a smile and they kissed softly. 

Just then, a servant came to them holding a large woven basket

“Your lunch, majesties?” the young man said, handing Aragorn the basket. 

“Ah! Thank you - and could you please tell the gardener to put some plants in the royal bed chamber please? He’ll know what’s best, I’m sure.” The boy smiled and nodded with a bow

“Yes, sir. And, may I just say that…all the kitchen staff are very happy to have Prince Legolas safely back to the palace..” he said, shyly smiling at the elf who smiled prettily back

“Thank you, it is good to be back.” He said. The boy grinned with a slight blush, bowed again and bade them good day before going back inside. 

“That must be the new kitchen boy..” Aragorn said, ripping them both some bread off the loaf

“He is much more polite than the last one.” Legolas said. Aragorn chuckled, nodding, handing him some bread which Legolas ate hungrily. Legolas looked up to see Aragorn grinning a him, and he blushed “I am sorry, I must learn to eat normally again..”

“No, no, my love, I’m just glad to see you eating.” Legolas smiled, eating a little more civilly. He handed a piece of bread to his husband, who took it with a small smile, though seemed slightly confused. 

“You have lost weight too, Aragorn…” he said, almost disapprovingly. Aragorn chuckled and nodded. 

“I know, Faramir has scolded me on that subject.” He said. Legolas looked sadly at him, but he continued to smile. “We both have some catching up to do, I suppose.” He said and Legolas let out a laugh, agreeing. 

They sat there, talking and eating their lunch. Just when the picnic was nearing its end, a strong breeze picked up and blasted the couple quite suddenly. The elf’s long blonde hair erupted in a wave of chaos, startling him slightly. Aragorn helped him control his locks, sweeping the stray tresses behind pointed ears but in doing so, his hand brushed Legolas’ face and he frowned, placing his palm on his forehead “You are very warm, meleth, I believe you have a fever..” he said, comparing the temperature to his own and found it searing. Legolas frowned, placing a hand on his own forehead

“Oh yes… I feel fine..” he mumbled but they both knew that wasn’t true. He suddenly felt very hot but began to shiver as if freezing and his whole body felt weak. Aragorn immediately took action, wrapping Legolas in a blanket and picking him up, taking him straight to the palace. He summoned the doctor, taking Legolas to their chambers where the doctor met them, moments later. 

“He suddenly became feverish..” Aragorn informed him. The doctor nodded, examining the shivering, fevered elf.

“I was worried this would happen. The sudden change in environment - particularly considering the prince is a Forest Elf - from being underground for months to outside air so suddenly has caused his malnourished body stress and so it has gone into a sort of shock, causing the fever.” He told them both, though Legolas was not listening. “He should be alright in a few days but he will experience this until his body feels better, so to speak. He needs total rest and heat to keep him sweating out the fever. He must also have minimal food for a day or two - I know this isn’t ideal as he is already malnourished but it is necessary or else he will get worse – soup and a small amount of bread only and plenty of water. Use a cool damp cloth on his forehead so it is more comfortable for him. I understand you have already asked for plants in here - I think it will be very good for his condition to have as much around him as possible while he rests.” Aragorn nodded, taking it all in, and the doctor left. The King sighed, sitting beside Legolas

“Why did you not tell me if you felt unwell, meleth?” he asked softly, tucking the blankets in around his body to keep the heat in. Legolas looked at him apologetically, shivering and pale, and Aragorn felt nothing but love towards him, leaning down to very gently kiss his lips. “Rest now, meleth, I’ll be right here if you need me.” He said, stroking his hair with a smile. Legolas sighed and nodded slightly, shifting himself a little before closing his eyes. Aragorn kept stroking his hair even after he’d fallen fast asleep, reminding himself he had him. 

He eventually left Legolas’ side to find himself something to do while watching over the elf - not that he didn’t mind spending it watching him sleep but he felt he should do something more productive.

Soon enough, he found some requests he’d received for improvements to the kingdom. Such things included more recreation days and events for celebration and fun, new pots in the castle kitchen and the occasional requests for the lowering of a price of something or an idea for a new law. Some of these requests were utterly preposterous but, on the whole, Aragorn valued the suggestions highly and did his best to fulfil those he thought would improve things. He and Legolas usually went through them together but Aragorn had to accept the fact that his elf was not himself at present. 

Legolas stirred once or twice during the day, but he mostly remained unconscious. It went against every fibre in Aragorn’s body not to wake him up for food or not take off the thick comforter when Legolas’ face seared with heat and he writhed in his sleep from how uncomfortable he was. Aragorn made sure to keep the cool cloth on his forehead damp and whispered soothing words of comfort when Legolas began mumbling from nightmares. 

He soon took to reading the requests aloud, whether or not Legolas heard them, making himself feel better and filling the void of silence. 

It was just nearing time to light a candle, the daylight having run out, when he realised Legolas’ eyes were open and he was watching him with a small smile. Aragorn put the request for more nightly patrols down and went to him, holding his hand and stroking his hair. 

“Are you alright, my darling?” he asked softly. 

“Yes…I apologise..” he said, his voice a little stronger now. 

“I shan’t listen.” He said with a smile, kissing his temple. “Oh, I almost forgot – I received word from your father – he wishes to come here and see you. He’s so very happy you’re safe and well.” He said, smiling warmly. 

“My father coming here?” Legolas asked, slightly surprised, though he knew he shouldn’t be. Aragorn nodded.

“If you wish him to?”

“Of course, I’d love to – I am just…he does not like to travel.” He said. Aragorn smiled. 

“I think you may be worth the journey, I certainly think so.” He said, making Legolas smile. “So I will reply and invite him?” Legolas nodded. “Perhaps he will bring your siblings as well?” he asked, Legolas’ smile brightening further. 

“Oh…that would be wonderful, I have not seen them for so long..” Aragorn grinned. 

“I will reply tonight.” He said, kissing him again.


	7. Chapter 7

Aragorn was in the throne room, at a council meeting, when one of his guards answered the door, speaking quietly to someone on the other side. Aragorn looked up at this point, curious and bored from the dull conversation, and watched the guard make his way towards him. 

“Your Grace, King Thranduil has arrived.” He said when he arrived, leaning towards him and speaking quietly. Aragorn grinned and nodded, standing up. 

“Excellent. If you will excuse me gentleman, I have an important matter to attend to.” He said. The men around the table nodded their agreements to disperse, gathering their things. Aragorn went to the door and let them all out before heading to the main hall. He found the King of the Woodland Realm and his father-in-law sitting beside the fire, looking regal and, as always, extremely intimidating. 

“Your Majesty.” He greeted him as he nears where he was sitting. Thranduil grinned at him and stood, taking his offered hand and shaking it firmly, his other hand resting on Aragorn’s shoulder. 

“Aragorn, wonderful to see you.” He said. 

“And you, sir. I was told you’d be arriving with your other children, was I mistaken?” he said, worried they weren’t coming after all – Legolas would be disappointed. 

“Oh, yes, they will arrive sometime tomorrow – I was too impatient to arrive so I left without them.” He said with a laugh, making Aragorn grin. How can someone so dauntingly powerful be so amiable and pleasant?

“Excellent, I look forward to see them again – Legolas will be pleased you arrived so swiftly.”

“Yes…how is he?” he asked, hesitating slightly, as if he feared bad news. Aragorn sighed and shrugged.

“He’s certainly improving, but he is still in pain…” he said “Honestly, I hope you and his siblings will be able to lift his spirits.” He said with sincere optimism. Thranduil smiled and nodded. “Well, I shall take you to see him, shall I?” he asked. Thranduil grinned. 

“Please.” He almost breathed. 

They went up to the Royal Quarters, Aragorn leading Thranduil, though he seemed to know precisely where he was going despite never having visited Gondor before this day, as though he was naturally drawn towards his child. 

*

There was a knock on the chamber door and Legolas looked up from his book. 

“Come in?” he called, not feeling up to getting up. He heard the door open as his eyes returned to the page, not really caring who it was. 

“Legolas…” the voice made the elf look up and his pallid face became a smile.

“Father!” he said, sitting up properly. The splendid king of the Woodland Realm, Thranduil, stood in the doorway with a big smile. He went to his son and they hugged, their long blonde hair intermingling. Legolas saw Aragorn behind him, though he didn’t move closer – giving them this moment alone.

“My son, you are looking better than I expected. I was told you had a fever - how are you feeling?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed beside him and holding both his hands.

“Better, father, thank you. How was your trip?” he asked, smiling. Thranduil chuckled.

“It was fine, Legolas, you know I do not enjoy travelling much, but it was tolerably quick… I am so pleased to see you looking well.” He looked round at his son-in-law with a smile, still holding his son’s hands “Thank you, Aragorn, for taking care of him.” Aragorn grinned

“It is my pleasure, sir. Are you hungry? I can send for some food if you wish? Legolas?” both elves smiled and nodded

“Yes, please.” Aragorn smiled and left the room, using it mostly as an excuse to leave father and son alone for a spell. 

“I am sorry I could not be here sooner, the Goblins were causing havoc in the mountains again..”

“I understand, I am just glad to see you.” He said with a smile. Thranduil smiled, looking at his beautiful child fondly 

“Your brothers and sister will arrive in a day or two, I went on ahead to see you.” Legolas grinned

“Thank you, Father… I cannot wait to see them, I want them – you – all to feel at home here as well.” Thranduil nodded

“Indeed, we spend too much time apart.” Legolas’ expression saddened slightly “What is it, hiin?” (a/n: = ‘child’) he asked softly, touching the long fine hair resting on his son’s shoulder. Legolas shook his head

“It is nothing, I just miss you all… Returning from that place…I wish to go home but I do not want to leave Aragorn..” Thranduil replied in Elvish, hushing his voice slightly

“You wish to live in Mirkwood?” Legolas nibbled his bottom lip, which Thranduil gently ceased with his thumb “Please do not do that, my child.. Have you spoken with Aragorn about it?” Legolas shook his head, his eyes down

“I love it here in Gondor but…there are not enough trees, nor energy; such things were not with me whilst I was there and I miss them so. I always feel so tired even after waking up from a long sleep..” his eyes filled with tears. Thranduil shifted himself to sit beside his son and pulled him into a gentle but firm hug, stroking his hair just as he did when he was a youngling. 

“It is alright, Legolas. Aragorn will wish to know you are feeling this way…”

“I know…but I cannot tell him..”

“I can tell him for you, if you wish?” he offered. Legolas sighed

“I suppose…I did not want him to know, he will be angry-”

“Oh, nonsense, my child! He would never be angry at you for such a thing, it is completely understandable… I will speak to Aragorn later, all right?” he asked softly, gently touching his son’s pale cheek with a smile. Legolas smiled sadly, tears still swimming in his eyes and Thranduil tightened his hug around his son. 

Aragorn stood just outside the chamber, listening to their conversation. He was terribly saddened to hear how much pain Legolas was in, how sad and…almost desperate he’d sounded. He walked back out into the corridor, then turned and went into the bedroom as if he’d only just returned, smiling. 

“They are bringing some food up now. Are you alright, meleth?” he asked, seeing Legolas hastily wiping his eyes

“Yes, fine.” He replied. Aragorn smiled and kissed his forehead. Thranduil sat back and smiled at them, thinking about when would be a good time to speak to Aragorn. Legolas still went to bed early…so perhaps they could talk while he was sleeping. 

They chatted pleasantly until the food arrived, then conversation dwindled during consumption. Legolas’ table manners had more or less returned to him, he was finally back to eating at a normal pace though he still savoured and appreciated his food more than most. His weight was improving, and Aragorn had promised to start taking him for long walks once he felt up to it. It was just his sadness that was the problem…


	8. Chapter 8

Thranduil joined them for a quiet dinner together in the solar of the Royal Chamber, candlelit and warm. They’d spent the day talking and they’d gone for a short walk in the Orchard before Legolas began to feel tired again. They enjoyed their time together, Aragorn taking Thranduil for a tour of the castle while Legolas rested, then they sat by the fire until their dinner was served. 

They talked about light-hearted things, Thranduil telling them about what Legolas’ siblings had been up to lately and Aragorn talked about some building work he was planning to commission when the weather got warmer. 

“Legolas, perhaps when your siblings arrive we could all take a trip to the lake? It will do you good to be out in the sun and fresh air.” He said to his husband, who smiled and nodded. 

“That would be lovely.” He said and Aragorn grinned, rubbing his tight gently. “Perhaps we could introduce them to the others while they’re here? To Faramir and Gimli and the Hobbits?” he suggested and Aragorn nodded.

“Oh, yes, we should! Would that be agreeable, sir?” he asked Thranduil, who nodded with a smile. 

“Of course, we’d all love to meet your friends. Are these the ones you travelled with? With the Ring?”

“Yes, father, although Faramir was not with us before. His older brother, Boromir, was in the Fellowship, but he died near Parth Gathen, trying to protect Merry and Pippin.” Legolas told him with a sad smile. 

“He was a good friend.” Aragorn said and Legolas nodded. Thranduil smiled and raised his cup of wine.

“Well then, to lost friends.” He said and they both did the same, the metal clanking together dully as they toasted their fallen companion. 

After dinner, they sat outside and smoked for a while, though Legolas, as always, did not partake. They drank delicious sack posset for dessert, and soon they were all drowsy and Thranduil bade them goodnight, leaving the couple alone and sleepy.

“That went well.” Aragorn said with a smile as they got ready for bed, feeling full and warm. Legolas smiled and nodded as he climbed onto the bed, Aragorn quickly joining him.

“Yes, it was lovely, I am glad you and father get on so well.” He said and Aragorn smiled, kissing him gently. 

“I’m ashamed to say I couldn’t stop look at your father’s eyebrows.” Aragorn said, hushing his voice, and Legolas laughed. “Are you looking forward to seeing your brothers and sister?” he asked and Legolas nodded again, snuggling closer to his husband under their goose-down quilt.

“Yes…it has been a while since we were all together again…” he said, his eyelids heavy now. Aragorn smiled and kissed him again before snuffing the candle on his left, settling down to sleep, their arms around each other.

*

It was two more days before the rest of the Greenleaf clan arrived at Gondor Palace. Aragorn and Legolas were going through some more requests when a servant knocked, telling them that three Elves on horseback had just arrived. Legolas grinned excitedly at Aragorn, standing up and heading out of their rooms. 

Aragorn followed, grabbing both their cloaks as he went, running to catch Legolas up so he would put his on. The castle was very cold. 

They went down to the entrance hall and found Thranduil already there, and with him three creatures of the same beauty. Legolas rushed to greet his sibling, all three of them grinning to see him. 

He hugged the largest of them, Harn, first then Dagor, the eldest brother, and finally his sister, Alassiel. Legolas was the youngest of his family, and they all adored him. Harn was closest to Legolas in both age and relationship. 

“Legolas, you look better than we expected.” He said with a grin, his large hand on his little brother’s bony shoulder.

“Still too thin though.” Dagor said with a gentle smile on his naturally solemn face. Aragorn finally joined them, smiling at the beautiful family. 

“We are working on remedying that, don’t worry.” He said, shaking hands with his husband’s eldest brother, who nodded his approval. “How was your journey? Not too long, I trust?” he asked, shaking hands with Harn and kissing Alassiel’s small hand with a gentle smile. She returned this shyly, bowed her pretty head in greeting, holding Legolas’ hand tightly. 

“Fine, Aragorn, thank you. We managed to stay at good inns instead of making camp.” Dagor said. Aragorn grinned and nodded, smiling at Legolas.

“I’m glad. So, how about something to warm you all up? Perhaps a drink in the parlor?” he asked, which was met with grins and nods, the travelers eager to sit on something other than a horse. 

They retired to a private siting room, lit warmly by a fire in the heath. Servants brought wines and posset, as well as some small dishes of hot food and broth. 

“Are you alright, Legolas?” Harn asked his younger brother softly as the rest of them talked amongst themselves. Legolas looked at him and smiled, nodding. 

“Yes, I am much better..”

“Father says you wish to return to Mirkwood?” he asked and Legolas glanced over at his husband, checking he hadn’t heard. 

“I do not know what I want…” he said, shaking his head with a sigh. Harn wrapped a strong arm around him and kissed the top of his head. 

“I am sure you will do as your heart says. You like it here, do you not?”

“I do, I love it here but…since returning from that place, I cannot help but feel something may be…missing, or perhaps broken, inside me… I missed trees and air for so long, returning to stone walls was not very welcome. I just need time to rest..” he said, feeling old and tired. Harn frowned at him, seeing the sadness in his eyes, and hugged him close. 

“Let’s go for a ride tomorrow? Like when we were younglings, with Dagor and Alassiel as well? We can race in the forest…” he asked, his eyes shining with the fond memories of their adventures together, having escaped their royal chaperones for an afternoon, their father otherwise engaged. They had been so free then, so innocent. Legolas smiled. 

“That would be wonderful.”

“Will be up to it?” Harn asked, suddenly recalling that he was not in his peek condition. Legolas nodded. 

“Yes, I think so. Staying inside all the days is not helping me heal any.” He said and Harn grinned and nodded. 

“Wonderful! We will leave after breakfast.” He said and Legolas smiled, nodding. 

“Thank you.” He said.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for a heavy chapter y’all. 
> 
> Please, if you are struggling with anything at all, seek help. There are so many people who can help you, you just need to ask. 
> 
> Love yourself and each other.

“Dear brother…I can see you are dying.” Alassiel said and Legolas looked at her. “Your eyes are so dim…your light…” 

They were sitting outside together, waiting for their brothers to return with their horses, enjoying the warm day. They were both wearing riding gear, Harn having suggested the four of them all go out while their father and Aragorn discussed the war. 

His older sister’s warm, gentle hand held his own and squeezed, her soft dark eyes trained on his face as he looked down and sighed. 

“I feel so…tired..” he said, shaking his head slightly. “And so angry.” The hand holding his squeezed tighter. 

“Then you must face what happened to you…find a release. Have you told Aragorn what happened to you? Everything?” she asked and he looked at her, frowning. 

“No…nothing specific…I doubt he’d want to know.” 

“Legolas, he will want to know if what you are keeping inside is killing you. If you do not express the pain you feel, it will consume you.” She said. He stared at her for a moment, wondering when she became so wise and strong, then a sound behind him made him jump, both looking around. 

Their brothers were approaching, both leading two horses each. Harn’s grey mare, the two white geldings, one for Legolas and one for Dagor, and Alassiel’s pretty black filly. Legolas and his sister rose to greet them, Alassiel squeezing his hand once more before moving to take her horse’s reins. Dagor handed Legolas his own and all four of them mounted with all the grace of the Royal Children.

“Where shall we go, Legolas?” Harn asked, smiling at him. 

“There is a meadow not far from here, we can go through the forest.” He said, pointing towards the tree line in the east. The others agreed and they rode off, the wind in their long hair and the sun on their cheeks. 

Legolas rode his horse with slight unease, it had been so long since he rode and he hadn’t been out at all without his husband since returning. But he was flanked by his oldest brother and sister, Harn on Alassiel’s other side and that was enough to make him feel safe. He knew he had nothing to fear while with his siblings, nor anything inside Gondor’s walls. It was only what his memories held that he feared, and the sneaking, nagging he felt that it was not yet over. 

Almost every night since Aragorn had brought him home, Legolas had dreamt that he was back in that awful place. Sometimes Aragorn was there, shackled to the wall and just out of Legolas’ reach, blood on his shirt and his eyes open and unseeing. 

Sometimes he was terribly and utterly alone in that cell, no sound, nor light – save that one raging eye just beyond the bars of his airless window. 

Last night, however, something had changed. The room had felt larger, brighter, hotter. He remembered feeling that there was something lurking within the stone walls, noises he could not hear but that made his skin creep with fear and dread, feeling the suspense of something that never happened. 

He felt something was coming, coming for him, and feared he would not survive it. 

“Legolas!” Dagor’s voice caused him to gasp, jerking his horse’s reins towards himself so the gelding whinnied loudly and almost reared, a foreign hand moving forward to quell the beast’s fright. Legolas looked to the side to see Alassiel, reaching from her own horse to stroke his horse’s mane. He met her eyes as they stared at him, her brow pulled into a concerned frown. 

“Calm, brother..” she said. “We were speaking to you…you did not reply..” she told him, her hand moving from his stead’s neck to his arm. 

“S-sorry…sorry, I was not listening…” he said, shaking his head. He looked past his sister to see Harn frowning at him, then round to find Dagor had dismounted, standing below him as he looked up. 

“You are alright?” he asked and Legolas nodded

“Yes… My apologies, my thoughts took all my attention away…” he said. Dagor’s sullen face was filled with worry as he nodded, patting Legolas’ knee before hopping back onto his own horse. 

“Do you wish to go back?” he asked. Legolas shook his head. 

“No…I want to be out here longer…” he said, looking out across the fields towards the mountains. He wanted keep riding and never stop. “We are close to a lake. It is quite beautiful.” He said, starting for the east, away from the enticing mountains. 

“Alright…it is warm enough for paddling.” Dagor said, though Legolas was already off again. He and Alassiel looked at each other and he saw she felt the same he did. Their brother was broken, and they needed to fix him, before he was unfixable.

Harn caught up to his little brother’s horse, a silent sentinel as Legolas rode his gelding hard towards the clean water. 

The trees eventually parted to show them a glorious, clear lake. The water sparkled in the sunlight, the only sounds was the gentle lapping of the water on the pebbled shore. Legolas jumped off his horse, leaving it to graze in the tree line and walked with purpose to the water’s edge. 

He stopped a moment to look out over the calm water and to feel the cool wind in his hair then, forgetting his brothers and sister were with him at all, stepped into the cold water. He walked and walked, the water swallowing his legs and hips and waist until only shoulders were above the surface. He wished he wasn’t wearing riding boots, so he could feel the sand between his toes, feel it dissipate and reform around his feet and ankles as he moved. 

He stood for a while in the cool water, letting it seep into his clothes, ruin the leathers he wore and tug very gently at the tips of his long hair. 

Then he sunk beneath the surface, keeping his eyes open to look out into the blue, sun-spotted depths. The drop-off into deeper waters was a little way, and he wondered if it was warm or cold at the very bottom. 

When he resurfaced, he could hear his siblings shouting his name, and splashing. He turned, blinking the water from his eyes, but it only grew warmer, stinging his cold cheeks. He watched as Harn struggled through the resisting water to get to him, trying to leap through the liquid while his arms fought a losing battle with the undulating surface. 

Droplets clung to Legolas’ eyelashes, but when he raised his hand to brush them away, he felt arms wrap around him. He looked up to see Harn, panting and angry, demanding what he was thinking. Then he saw the unrelenting tears rolling down his little brother’s face, he stopped his scolding and held him tightly. 

“Legolas…Legolas, Legolas, I am so sorry… You are so very hurt, my sweet brother, and I…I cannot- I do not know how to help you..” he whispered into Legolas’ wet hair. Legolas’ arms slowly rose, hugging him back as he sobbed. 

*

He only remembered parts the ride back to the castle, after Dagor’s insistence he be wrapped in everyone’s cloaks. Alassiel had dried his hair as best she could so he would not catch a chill, but four cloaks covering him made staying upright on Harn’s horse difficult. He clung to his brother’s doublet, eyes closed. He felt the warm hand touch his every so often as he checked he still on the horse. He glanced to the left, Dagor leading Legolas’ own white gelding with him as they rode home. 

He knew Aragorn would be angry and upset at Legolas’ apparent suicide attempt – though it could hardly be called that. 

While he was in that place, he’d often thought about ways to end his own life. Being imprisoned made the options limited, so he’d have to get creative – plus it drove away the aching boredom for a while. Things like dashing his head on the abundance of concrete in the room, angering an orc into killing him, drink one of Saruman’s potions he had on his shelves, find one with a label holding a skull and crossbones. 

His thinking was interrupted by a hand gripping his wrist, holding it securely around Harn’s waist. 

“I can feel you slipping, sweet brother, please hold on to me tightly…” he said, a tinge of begging in his voice. Legolas obeyed, joining his own hands together around his brother, locking his fingers together. Harn’s hand covered his hands easily, squeezing gently before returning to the reins. 

They arrived back at the castle stables and Legolas felt Harn slid off the horse before strong hands came under his arms, lifting him off the steed as easily as lifting a babe. 

“I want to go to bed…” Legolas said softly to his brother, glancing up at him. He was cold and shaky and his head ached. Harn’s arm wrapped around his waist, holding him to his own chest. 

“Yes…I will take you. Dagor, find Aragorn, tell him to come up to the Royal Chamber.” He said. “Alassiel, come with us, please?” it was posed as a question but Legolas did not know what the response was until he was being laid down in his and Aragorn’s bed, his sister’s sweet voice talking to him softly. It sounded so much like their mother’s whispers as she tried to soothe him into sleep. He blinked for a moment, watching her unbuttoning his saturated doublet, before he was asleep.


	10. Chapter 10

Aragorn was just finishing a meeting with his City officials, King Thranduil sitting in on it to offer his input to the running of Gondor. They’d been at it since dawn, and everyone was hungry and tired. They were gathering up the parchments scattered over the City Council table when he heard the door open, and hasty footsteps. He looked up to see a guard coming towards him, accompanied by Dagor. 

“Dagor? Is something wrong?” Thranduil asked his eldest son, standing up with a frown. The young elf looked worried and pale, looking between his father and brother-in-law as he nodded. 

“It’s Legolas… He…he tried to…- J-just come with me. Both of you.” He said, and they did. 

“What? What happened? Is Legolas hurt?” Aragorn asked, running to catch up with the younger elf’s long strides. 

“No…no, he’s… He went out into the lake…we thought he was going to drown himself…” he said, walking hurriedly. Aragorn’s whole body went cold, and he froze in his tracks. Thranduil stared between him and his son, then his jaw clenched and he grabbed the front of Aragorn’s doublet. 

“Legolas needs us, this is no time to be struck dumb, Aragorn.” He snarled with a startling heat, before releasing the Man and sweeping off, with Dagor at his heels. 

Aragorn watched them go, his breathing shallow as his chest tightened. Legolas had tried to hurt himself, kill himself? He was in that much pain… The mere thought of Legolas so sad set a fire in Aragorn’s heart, and he ran to catch up with his husband’s family. Then past them. Sprinting through the stone hallways, he took the stairs to the royal chamber 2 or 3 at a time. He crashed into the heavy oak door of their solar, slamming it open.

Alassiel was standing by the fire, helping a maid to hang out Legolas’ sodden green cloak. They both jumped and turned when he made his entrance, their eyes wide.

“Where is he?!” Aragorn demanded, tears in his eyes. The she-elf jumped at his raised voice, but she recovered herself quickly and spoke. 

“I-in bed-” but Aragorn didn’t let her finish, running into their bedroom. Harn was sitting on the bed, draping a blanket over the shivering form of Legolas. The older elf looked up when he entered, smiling slightly. 

“He’s asleep. I’m trying to get him warm…” he said. There was a thick towel wrapped around Legolas’ hair, his face pale and fevered. Aragorn joined them on the bed, his arm around his husband, not knowing what to do. Thranduil moved behind Harn, looking down at his youngest child with sad eyes. 

“He is dying…” Thranduil said softly. Aragorn looked at him, angry and confused. For the first time, the Elf King looked old. His perfect skin looked drained, greyish, his face suddenly aged by grief. 

“But…but how…?” Aragorn asked, his eyes wide with fear, his warm hand holding Legolas’ cold one. “He…he’s an elf…he’s supposed to live for centuries, forever! He was supposed to die long, long after me, I’ve accepted that!” Aragorn screamed, angry and helpless. Harn flinched at the shout, trying to calm Aragorn down, not wanting to wake Legolas, but all Aragorn could see was Thranduil stepping away from the bed. “Answer me! Why is he dying?! We have to save him!!” Aragorn bellowed, tears escaping ad rolling down his cheeks. Maddened with fear, he picked up his husband’s limp body and hugged him tightly to himself, squeezing him hard in his arms, wanting to take him inside himself, protect him with his own ribs, nourish and warm him with his own blood. 

All too soon, the closeness was ripped away by foreign hands, prying them apart. Aragorn cursed and fought, until a sharp pain filled his mind, and the world went black. 

*

Aragorn awoke to see their bed’s canopy above him, the softness of goose down pillows beneath his head and the heavy warmth of blankets. He sat up stiffly, his head aching, pounding. He brought his hand up to feel his own head, but his fingers found linen and gauze. 

“They had to knock you out.” A voice said, and Aragorn looked up to see Faramir sitting at his own desk. His friend looked at him disapprovingly, sighing as he stood up and came over to sit on the mattress at his feet. “You were holding Legolas so tightly they feared you would break his ribs. They couldn’t get you off him so…” he trailed off, gesturing to Aragorn’s bandaged cranium. The King looked to his left, finding the bed empty beside himself. 

“Where is he…?” he asked, his voice husky. Faramir handed him a glass of water, and he drank it eagerly, his throat feeling thick and scratchy. 

“They took him out to the forest, the elves… They’re trying to heal him, I suppose nature is the best thing for him… King Thranduil believes Saruman placed some sort of curse on Legolas, so that if he ever escaped Mordor, he would die slowly. It’s very dark magic, not even the elves know how to stop it. Gandalf is on his way.” Faramir informed his friend, looking at him seriously. “Whatever it is, it’s been poisoning Legolas since we rescued him.” He said. Aragorn felt numb, cold, devastated. What if Gandalf could not help? What if it was a curse that could only be lifted by the caster? Saruman was dead…was he not? Aragorn’s soldiers had reported killing the wizard but…perhaps he had survived, or used some sorcery to create a double of himself, escaping before the fray…

“I have to see him.” Aragorn said, pushing himself out of bed only to stagger as a wave of dizziness engulfed his sight. Faramir caught him and pushed him back onto the bed, cursing softly. 

“No, you have to eat something and bathe, and sleep more. He is with his people, Aragorn, they will look after him. You have worsened just as he has, Aragorn, you are thin and exhausted.” He said, a firm hand on Aragorn’s shoulder to keep him sitting down. Aragorn was confused by this. It did not matter how he was feeling, Legolas was the person who matter. Legolas was the one who was hurt so badly, Aragorn was fine. Faramir glared down at him, apparently reading his mind. “You are important too, my friend. You have given so much of your attention to Legolas that you neglected yourself. Legolas told me that you have scarcely eaten more than he has.” He said, demonstrating his point by easily pushing Aragorn onto his back, the King’s weakness becoming clear. Aragorn struggled to right himself, still trying to protest, though he felt lightheaded from the movement which had aught to do with his head wound. 

“But-”

“I will fetch your food, and ask Dagor to meet with you here. You are not to leave this bed except to use the privy. Understood?” Aragorn nodded meekly and settled himself back against the pillows, angry and sad and hungry.

*

It was two days before his doctor allowed Aragorn to travel to the forest to visit the elves. They were still his guest in every way but that they were not residing in his castle. They had set up a sort of village among the trees, a natural sanctuary for their souls, and a healing centre for their failing prince. 

He was escorted by Dagor, whom he’d been speaking with regularly and from whom he’d learned that Legolas’ life force was being slowly sapped by a powerful dark spell. Gandalf had arrived the morning before and he spent every moment since then with Legolas, trying to counter this curse but had, so far, been unable to do much more than relieve Legolas’ pain. 

Aragorn was terrified of seeing Legolas. He could not bear the thought of his proud, strong, healthy love reduced to an invalid, a shell of weakness and pain and decay. He had never feared this in their marriage, always thinking it would his own body that would fail and, though he hated the fact that Legolas would have to watch this and then live his life without Aragorn, it felt far worse to be the one in his shoes, selfish as it was to think of now. 

They arrived in the early morning, having ridden about an hour from the castle to their destination. Faramir was with him, as well as the castle doctor and a handful of magic and herb scholars he hoped may be able to assist, though none before them had done more than report their deepest apologies to the King. 

Aragorn dismounted unsteadily, though his head was no long bandaged and his strength had returned after Faramir’s regimented schedule of food and sleep. He followed Dagor through the trees and between the tents and makeshift houses the elves were so gifted at creating. They came to the centre of the settlement, and Aragorn felt his eyes immediately sting with hot tears. 

Legolas lay on a thick blanket of moss and flowers, a constructed, concentrated patch of meadow just for him. He wore loose white robes, his long blond hair shining around his head like a halo. He looked so much like a beautiful corpse laid out on a pier that Aragorn could hardly bear to look upon him, but there were signs that he was alive. His chest moved as he breathed, his skin glowing with an almost iridescent gleam. An elf woman dressed completely in green leaves and flowers knelt beside him, on hand on his forehead and the other on his flat stomach, and she was speaking softly, a form of Elvish Aragorn had never heard and did not understand. Dagor lead Aragorn over, but she did not look up, nor break her almost rhythm in her almost chant-like words. 

“A healer from Lothlórien, Galadriel sent her.” 

“Galadriel?” Aragorn asked, wondering if the Lady of Lórien knew of Legolas’ pain now, as she had when she helped them find him in Mordor. Dagor nodded, distractedly looking around for someone. 

“Aragorn!” a familiar, rich voice called behind them, and they both turned to see Gandalf and Thranduil coming towards them. Aragorn’s heart leaped to see the old wizard, always comforted by his sagely presence. 

“Gandalf, my dear friend…” Aragorn said, walking over to meet him. They shared a hug, Gandalf patting his back affectionately, but with excessive gentleness. 

“It is good to see you.” He said when they parted, hand on Aragorn’s shoulder. “I am sorry it is in these circumstances.” He said, his face clearly haggard under his smile, Aragorn wondered if he looked the same way himself. 

“Is there anything you can do?” he asked, very aware of how defeated he sounded even to his own ears. From what Dagor had told him, it seemed hopeless…

“Not I, my friend, but you can do something.” Gandalf said and Aragorn looked into his eyes, trying to find hope. The old wizard sighed, and they walked back to where Legolas lay motionless among the wildflowers. The woman was still there, speaking her strange tongue. “The spell on Legolas is a powerful one, but it can be broken.” He said. Aragorn resisted the urge to seize the old man and shake him until he told him what to do when he paused. “You may not believe me but…it can only be broken by true love.” He said. Aragorn stared at him, thinking he must have gone insane. True love’s kiss…that was only in children’s stories, stories of brave knights rescuing damsels in distress, waking them from eternal sleep with something as simple as a single kiss. 

Gandalf saw his expression, and laughed. Aragorn wanted to kill him. “I know it sounds utterly ridiculous, my friend, believe me. But where do you think those stories come from? It is ancient magic, older than Middle Earth I’d imagine, created when two people first loved each other.”

“But…I…I have kissed Legolas many times since he has been back, how can the spell still-” Gandalf held up a hand, shaking his head gravely. 

“Not a kiss, my friend, nothing so simple, I’m afraid… This is a dark, sexual spell, Saruman used it to claim ownership of Legolas’ body, just as he did through raping him.” He said. Aragorn winced, his heart aching. He did not know the details of what Legolas had been through during his time at Saruman’s hands, he could not even imagine it. Simple knowing he’d been raped, even once, was enough to make Aragorn want to die for not protecting him. 

“So…so I will need to…make love with Legolas? But…he’s terrified, he told me..! I promised him he had no duty to me…I told him we could live our lives without physical love… I cannot force him...I won’t…”

“If you have to force him, it will not work, my friend…” Gandalf said softly. “You must both want it, it must be completely mutual for the curse to be broken.”

“But…that may never happen. He may never want me to touch him again…!” he said, tears burning his eyes again. “How…how long does he have?”

“At the rate of his decline in such a short period…I’m afraid not long. We have been able to bring some life back to him…the forest is certainly helping it to, at least, stay steady enough.” The wizard looked into Aragorn’s eyes sadly. “Speak to him, my friend, he misses you deeply.”

“Alassiel seems to think telling you what happened in Mordor will help as well.” Thranduil said. “She is well connected to her brothers’ spirits, she knows their minds and souls better than anyone…I truly believe she is right. It is poisoning him, the words, the memories…if he can release them, release them to you, he may be able to fight them.” He said, his hand on Aragorn’s arm. The Kind swallowed thickly and took a deep breath. 

“Yes… I will do anything I can to save him.” He said. The King of the Elves smiled and hugged the Kind of Men, who then hugged the White Wizard. Thranduil said something to the woman beside Legolas, and she nodded, slowly removing her hands from his skin and his eyes blinked open. He looked serene for a moment, then his blue eyes moved to rest on Aragorn’s face as he knelt beside him. 

“Aragorn…” he said softly, his beautiful face brightening with a small smile. Aragorn grinned despite the tears in his eyes, and hugged his husband. He helped him stand, feeling how weak he truly was, and kissed him softly. “I missed you…” Legolas said. Aragorn nodded, holding him tightly. 

“I missed you too, my love…” he said. Legolas looked at his father and Gandalf and sighed. 

“They told you…?” he asked. Aragorn nodded, his hand on the small of Legolas’ back. 

“Yes…I want you to know that I am here for you, no matter what.” Legolas smiled at him, and kissing him softly. 

“I know…thank you…” he whispered as they hugged again, hope filling them that they would get through this together.


End file.
